How was school?

I bet almost every parent in every corner of the world asks their children this question on a daily basis. "How was school?"

No matter the culture, language, school district, or child, most every parent is at least mildly interested in finding out how junior did in school today. Any drama? Suspensions? Fights? Expulsions? Then by all measures, a decent day.

When I ask our normally chatty-cathy's this question, they suddenly become tongue-tied. Maybe the question short circuits their brains or something, because I always get the same answer. You know you do, too. "How was school?"

-every child in the world, "good."

Huh?

"Good" just isn't good enough any more. I've wised up. I've figured out new ways to ask an old question. I ask follow up questions. But they've apparently braced for this, too.

Me, "So, what was good about your day today?"

Say it with me...EVERY kids response, "I don't know."

Defeat. Stonewall. Iced out. They're just not budging, no matter what. I've even gone to the very creative, "tell me the most interesting thing you learned so far today." I mean, come on, THAT'S a conversation starter.

But no, still I hear, "I don't know..."

So now it's time to get serious. A new, fresh approach. A way to make them understand. Be the ball, Danny...speak their language....

Any kid in any town, anywhere..."Dad, can I go outside and play?

Dad: "I don't know."

Kids: "Dad, can I have some money for the movies?"

Dad: "I don't know."

Kids: "Dad, can I go to the Justin Bieber concert with my friends?

Dad: "I don't k..."

Kids, interrupting: "But Dad, he'd awesome, I mean, come on...even YOU must think he's....

Dad, smiling: "....good."

Gosh

Remember the story of my cousin, 'Little James?' (If he becomes a rapper, Lil' James) If not, check out the previous post called, "pronouns & curse words."

Anyway, he and his twin brother are in town this week for VBS (vacation Bible school).

So we're outside wrestling and during a brief pause in the WWE action I ask him how it is.

Me: "So how's VBS going?"

LJ: "Good."

Me: "Are you having fun?"

LJ: "Yep."

Me: "Who are you learning about?"

LJ: Wants to get this one right, yet seems pained by the answer. I'm waiting patiently as his 8 year old mind wanders to and returns back from Sponge-Bobville, and he finally says:

"Gosh."

I look at him, he looks back at me. He doesn't say it like he's exasperated, he says it like he means it, as if he is spending his days learning about Gosh.

Me: "You mean, "GOD?"

LJ: "Ummm yeah."

Me: "There is no Gosh Almighty, you know."

LJ: "I know."

Now this exchange is really funny to me because our kids (and cousins) know saying "Oh my God" is not an acceptable thing to say. So apparently in his pee wee brain he figures he can't say "God" because he may get in trouble. So he says "Gosh."

Brilliant, actually.

Gosh.

You said WHAT? (a/k/a You're gonna' get knocked up)

We are passionate people.

A very spirited family.

An abundance of ambition (although sometimes a deficit of motivation).

We can also be quite sarcastic, dramatic, stubborn and ill-tempered.

There is really nothing we don't joke about. A kid throws a temper tantrum (any of them, ages 14/11/8/1.5), within an hour or so we're re-enacting it with dramatic flair to the cheers and jeers of the family crowd.

A true (albeit embarrassing) family story:
Let's just say for conversation's sake that your in Canada with the kids driving around down by Niagara Falls at night on what is apparently the Canadian Labor Day Weekend (who thought to check the Canadian calendar before our trip?? No wonder that dive motel was so expensive!) and your SUV stops running. By the way, you're leaving the next morning because you HAVE to be be back in town in two days for a court-custody hearing. So you're coasting, that's right, COASTING down the road in neutral trying to get off the road (there is, apparently, every Canadian in Canada at the Falls this night at 11:30 PM).

You almost get through the intersection, 3/4 the way turned when you run out of momentum. So you're kind-of blocking 1 lane of traffic. Apparently people are not too happy that time of night, because Mr. Minivan behind me honks his horn. Granted, an inconvenience, but sheesh pal go around me. I did have my flashers on, what could I do?

So MV Man honks again, this time a little longer. I of course am oblivious (except apparently in my subconscious where it's building like 1980's Mt. St Helen's), as Andrew, Hannah, Maddie and 8-month pregnant Jill wait for me to do something great.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKK. As if the guy is sleeping on his horn.

Snap.

I fling my door open and bum rush MVM. I start yelling passionately about how my truck is stalled as in it won't start and although I can appreciate this driver's impatience I'm sure he can understand I AM NOT DOING IT ON PURPOSE.

The male driver (mid-60's) is just staring straight ahead like, 'cooo-cooo bird' which of course makes me more frustrated. Just when I realize what a dufus I am being, and when I finally pause to catch my breath, his unlovely wife leaned over and very patronizingly stated,

"you need to caaaaalllllllmmmm down."

Composure? gone.
Reason? gone.
Good sense? gone.
Mild yelling tone? long gone.

Calm down? Calm down? You and your jerk husband have the audacity to sit here in the comfort of your glorified station wagon, which unlike my vehicle at this point, WORKS - while my three children and pregnant wife are sitting in the middle of the busiest intersection in North America a mere 8 hours before we're supposed to go home all the while knowing not a single auto shop will be open in the morning because of your stupid labor day holiday, smack dab in the middle of summer, and blah blah blah...

They drive off, and I am left seething. The locals came over and applauded my tongue-lashing (making me feel worse).

By the way, I work in ministry.

So we got it all ironed out (eventually), and wouldn't you know it, now all the kids have to say is, 'remember Canada?' I did apologize profusely to them and beg their forgiveness, telling them it was a perfect lesson in WHAT NOT TO DO, and that I was in every way wrong.

Remember Canada. Brilliant.

Ok, so I shared that loooong story so you know that everyone and everything is fair game. After all, WE ARE TEASERS!

So yesterday Andrew and I were teasing and wresting. This is quite fun for both of us, and of course he tests the boundaries of how far he can take it. So we're jockeying for position and he's running his mouth like a marathon-er, and in my mind I meant to say (again, we're teasing here...)

knock it off and shut it up

But what came out was, "You're gonna' get knocked up!"

How he knows what this means, I have no idea. But of course, game over. Hysterics. Andrew, Jill, Hannah (who has no clue what this means, but just joins in the laughing anyway), even Nate find my slip up amusing.

Guess what I've heard constantly for the last 12 hours?

pronouns and curse words

Last week my niece graduated with a Master's Degree of some specialty. This particular branch of the Kocian family tree is sagging mightily with all the college degrees. My eldest sister returned to school as an adult and not only finished her undergraduate, she went to attain a master's. Apparently that started some kind of race within her clan of who can acquire the largest amount of school-loan debt; no, who can earn the most degrees. My side of the tree however, is lighter....much lighter....


Anyway, we're all sitting at a fancy Italian restaurant, awaiting our super-sized portions of simple carbs when I say to my nephew,

"Do you know what a verb is?"

I get a look that only 2nd graders give when highly insulted by such innocuous banter...

"Yeaaaaaah"

Me: "Well, what is it?"

Him: "An action word."

Little does he know I'm setting him up. As a child I always found great humor in what I am about to entrap him with.

Me: "Ok smarty-pants, how about a pronoun, do you know what those are?"

The eyes roll back in the head, an exasperated sigh, followed by a pained grimace...

Him: "Duuh, yeah."

Me: "Give me an example of some pronouns then."

Him: "He, She, It.."

Me: "Huh?"

He's getting really torqued off now...

Him: "He, She, It"

Me: "What did you sayyy?"

Him: "HeSheIt"

A quizzical look...

Him: "Heshe it"

a pause....

a smile....

Him: "He..."

RAISES HIS VOICE TO NEAR YELLING

"SH**"

Everyone at the table gasps, the patrons look over at the rude exclamation, he looks at me...

And I wink.